The Dress
by spacegypsy1
Summary: Daniel and Vala.


The Dress

Spacegypsy1

Daniel and Vala. I'm feeding my obsession, here. Just a little drabble.

--0--0--0--

I can't say I wasn't surprised by the slap. And it stung like hell. But I'm proud to say my response was less violent then when she socked me the first time I met her.

"Go!" I grouch, narrowing my eyes for a better effect. And then, as a second thought, I jab my finger across the room toward the door.

She glares, no surprise there, tosses those ridiculous pigtails of hers, and marches out like a tin soldier. If she wasn't so damned cute, I'd strangle her.

Okay, so I deserved the slap. Damn. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't suffer some kind of brain damage from ascension.

I rub the spot on my cheek that still smarts. She packs a hell of a wallop. She may be on the thin side, but take it from me, she's all sinew.

Now I have to swallow my annoyance and stupidity, and apologize. She is, after all, my friend and teammate. And I'll admit sometimes I wish she was more than that.

It's been a long road to what I've been feeling in the last few months. I just can't seem to express it quite right. Somehow it all comes out backwards. Hell, to tell the truth, I get jealous. Me! Like tonight.

We were supposed to go together to Colonel Reynolds' party and she was going to spend the night at my place. In the guest room, of course. Then she walked in wearing that not-much-there, tiny, short and tight dress and I guess I went a little nuts. You could say I overreacted. Opened mouth. Inserted foot.

Teenage hooker. I think that's what I said. Gads! Somebody shoot me.

--0--0--

Roaming the corridors at the SGC for the last hour I try to locate her without making a complete fool of myself. No luck…on either count. Finally, I had to ask the SF at the desk. And the look he gives me clearly states he knows, and he's on her side. All men, from nine to ninety, are always on her side.

Except for me.

Son of a bitch, I think I'm in love with her.

The drive to Reynolds' place took hours. I got lost. She's always been my navigator. Damn.

I have to park a block away. In the rain.

The house is lit up like an Asgard beam and music can be heard from the street. If she's not here, I'm in for it with Sam. And Mitchell will not let me forget it…for months.

The deep breath I take doesn't do a thing to calm my racing heart. I'm soaked through from standing on the porch contemplating my life and the direction it's spiraling down to.

I open the door and walk in. There she is - the center of attention, surrounded by her devotees. I have to tell you, she took what breath I had away.

She's so beautiful and quirky, and put together like a porcelain doll. She's breakable, and I keep forgetting that.

Jack sidles up with a beer in each hand as I watch her. He doesn't say a word, just hands one to me and shakes his head with pity. I could kick him.

Trying to take a much-needed swig of beer, I catch Sam's gaze on me. Crap. I can still remember that scolding look from my mother.

Mitchell's right behind her, grinning as usual.

Teal'c, on the other hand, is looking at me with something akin to support. Like he understands something I don't. Or maybe he's just disappointed. I can't tell. He creeps me out sometimes with that look. He's been doing that ever since the time dilation adventure the rest of us didn't have.

As I turn away from my so-called friends, she stands there staring at me. I can't always read her. But this time I see the hurt in her eyes. How does she do it? How does she keep loving someone who keeps hurting her?

She has that pose of hers that says 'I'm happy' and the grin to back it up. But her eyes have always been the window to her soul and I read them from across the room.

Walking towards her, I hand off the beer to someone on the way. I feel light, buoyant, out of body. Almost like the moment I left the planet when I first ascended.

Obviously my face doesn't reflect that. Vala's eyes widen and she takes a step back. Sam's calling my name, sounding a bit frantic.

I know how it must look. Like I'm stalking her.

No matter how hard I try, the muscles of my face won't relax, they're twisted, probably looking angry to others eyes. It's actually only a reaction to the self doubt running rampant in my body.

The music stops. I don't think anyone is talking or laughing anymore. It's so quiet I can hear the ringing in my ears.

Her perfume assaults my nostrils. I'm close enough to feel the tension in her body. I snatch her forward so quickly there's a chorus of gasps. My hands tangle up in pigtails and my mouth sucks the words she's trying to say right out of hers. It doesn't take a second for her to respond, and I'm lost.

I kiss her so hard and so long I fear she'll be bruised. But I couldn't stop if my life depended on it. It might be corny, but I want to brand her as mine. I think she's getting the message.

She's doing a lot of branding herself.

I think I'm hearing some conversations and music in the background. I'm not sure. I feel kinda out of it. Oxygen deprivation. I need to stop. I need to get her home. I need to get that damned dress off of her. I hate it.

END--

A/N: this is actually the very first 'first person' story I ever wrote, but not posted. Thanks to Mrs.Pollifax for continually stepping forward to eradicate all goofs, keep me sane (while she's cooking dinner, working and herding other cats) and truly helping me to stretch my limits. Dee for the great help on the flow and Childofspacegypsy1 for being the first to read everything and helping all the way through- and the joy of being able to pick up the phone to discuss issues and feeling so much better when I hang up and then call her right back.


End file.
